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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25183891">Panama Hat Blues</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/christinefromsherwood/pseuds/christinefromsherwood'>christinefromsherwood</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>007 Fest 2020 [12]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>James Bond (Craig movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries Fusion, First Meeting, Humor, M/M, No Homophobia, Not even the typical period one, Pre-Relationship, ain't nobody got time for that, chaotic - Freeform, no actual miss fisher characters appear</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 07:43:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,164</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25183891</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/christinefromsherwood/pseuds/christinefromsherwood</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The way he liked to tell it, The Honorable Mr. James Bond rose betimes on the day when he met his future husband. However, if you asked his valet Bill, he’d tell you that “betimes” for Mr. Bond meant anything from the actual crack of dawn to the signal for lunch. </p><p>Still, seeing as this was the day he’d also met his valet, there really was no way of verifying how long the sun had spent in the sky before Mr. Bond climbed lazily out of his silk bed sheets, stretched in front of the billowing curtains and grinned at himself approvingly in the mirror of his Windsor hotel room. </p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James Bond/Q</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>007 Fest 2020 [12]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1809718</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>007 Fest Fancreations</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Panama Hat Blues</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>written for AU Day</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The way he liked to tell it, The Honorable Mr. James Bond rose betimes on the day when he met his future husband. However, if you asked his valet Bill, he’d tell you that “betimes” for Mr. Bond meant anything from the actual crack of dawn to the signal for lunch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, seeing as this was the day he’d also met his valet, there really was no way of verifying how long the sun had spent in the sky before Mr. Bond climbed lazily out of his silk bed sheets, stretched in front of the billowing curtains and grinned at himself approvingly in the mirror of his Windsor hotel room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why not after all? He was moderately tall, well built and no matter how many lines time and the war had left on his face, his eyes and smile still managed to secure him plenty of partners of all persuasions.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>James called for breakfast, remembering just in time to give the concierge exact specifications on how to prepare his scrambled eggs--breakfast the day before had been a sad trial--before returning back to the mirror. (He chose to mishear the concierge note that they’d be serving lunch soon.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yes, it would be the navy blue suspenders and pocket square today, and perhaps the double-breaste-, no, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>single</span>
  </em>
  <span> breasted herringbone jacket. That paired better with his light-blue vest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And James had been determined to wear his light-blue vest that day; the cut was spectacular and it was sure to put that corked-wine look on Uncle Gareth’s face. The ribbon on his Panama hat was of the exact same shade, too, which also spoke in the vest’s favour.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Years later, it was the very hat to which James attributed having charmed his future husband so quickly. It must have been the way that particular shade of blue offset his eyes that secured him closer perusal of the crime scene, surely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His husband disagreed. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He </span>
  </em>
  <span>said that he’d been simply too stunned to react fast enough when a civilian casually walked into a bathroom </span>
  <em>
    <span>which also happened to be a crime scene</span>
  </em>
  <span>, ogled him and then cheerfully said:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning, Inspector, I think we both know that Cousin Hans poisoned his father, so what would you say to a late luncheon at the Windsor? They do excellent things to oysters.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And so James was carted off to the City South police station and thrown mercilessly in jail. For obstructing the course of justice. (He still thought that was very unfair of his husband.) When all he’d wanted to do was speed up the process and get himself an assignation! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>James </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span> Hans killed Uncle Oberhauser; he was fairly certain even Uncle Gareth knew it despite the appalled face he’d made when James informed him of the fact as he was passing him, already under arrest, in the hallway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And unless James was very mistaken in the young, lithe detective with the entirely too-kissable lips and deliciously tuggable hair, the police knew it too. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Procedure</span>
  </em>
  <span>! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Honorable Mr. Bond never saw much need for procedure, truth to be told. It generally prevented one from getting things done in a speedy manner which was how he preferred to dispatch the majority of his dealings (with the sole exception of his amorous engagements, naturally.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Was that why he announced his escape plan to Bill Tanner, Hans’s former valet and current scapegoat, when he came to join him in his cell? Perhaps. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re insane,” Bill breathed out in amazement before quickly tagging on: “Sir.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>James decided he liked him. “How would you like a job?” he answered and wasn’t at all offended when Bill wasn’t immediately convinced that was the best course for his career. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he must have changed his mind when he saw that James had managed to persuade the beautiful Sergeant Moneypenny to bring them each a cup of coffee from the café next door when Inspector Q wasn’t looking. (Or perhaps when he </span>
  <em>
    <span>pretended</span>
  </em>
  <span> he wasn’t looking; James saw him hide his smile behind a cup of tea more than once when he posed for his mugshot.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And so they were agreed: Bill would assist in James’s breakout, alert the ravishing detective to said breakout once two hours have passed and thus secure himself of a position in a high society household and an access to a larger than average salary. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In the unlikely event of my demise, Uncle Gareth will take care to provide you with a suitable substitute. He’s dutiful like that,” James said, locking the cell door behind him and trying not to enjoy Bill’s alarmed face too much. “Toodeloo.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But really, there was no reason why his plan to let himself be captured by his cousin, taken into his Turkish bathhouse and then rescued by the lovely Inspector shouldn’t work exactly as he’d envisioned. And it did, indeed, go off without a hitch.<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Granted, he’d forgotten to calculate just how much Hans’s goons would enjoy beating him up when they finally got their hands on him. But what were a couple of bruises when compared to the rapid darkening of Q’s eyes when he personally broke down the door to the steamroom, where James was being kept, during the raid on Hans’s cocaine den and saw his naked, glistening body?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“James?! James!” he cried, palms going to cup James’s face, who retroactively regretted letting himself get punched to the temple which prevented him from enjoying the experience fully. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They serve oysters until 11 at the Windsor,” he mumbled when he regained consciousness to a satisfactory degree. “I think we could still make the time, Inspector.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Q stared at him for a moment before letting go and retreating quickly. The poor dear even looked around to see if any of his subordinates had seen his breach of decorum. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sadly, the words “Yes, James, take me to the Windsor, feed me oysters and then eat me out in your hotel room,” were not what fell out of his mouth. What a pity. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Bond, you are under arrest!” was what Q said next. “Unless you’re certifiably insane, which would explain things,” he added under his breath and went off to personally knee Cousin Hans in the crotch. (He'd been resisting arrest most strenuously, anyone would and did agree.)<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was probably when The Honorable Mr. James Bond decided both to open a detective agency, and to marry the Inspector. He suspected some token protest against both of these activities on the part of the Inspector himself but James was fairly certain of his eventual success. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>(His certainty was given grounds two days later when the Inspector accepted his apology in the form of a box of chocolates and a bottle of champagne by inviting him inside, opening both presents and offering to share. James was certain this happy turn of events was once again due to the lucky blue ribbon on his Panama hat, which was sadly destroyed in the course of the evening.)</span>
</p>
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